More Than Meets The Eye
by StormyWolfBowler
Summary: The League is just trying to work things out but things are a bit complicated as one of them starts exhibiting strange symptoms... CHP 1: A night of drinking turns a bit sour for one of the League...
1. Drinking and Daggers

Authoress's Note: First of all, this is my first LXG fic, so I really appreciate any criticism you have to offer. All characters are based from the Movie, and have no influence from their respective novels or the original graphic novel. While this is was primarily a Skinner-centered fic, I am attempting to bring it out as more of a League-centered fic, but bear with me as I am a Skinner fan.

I do not own anything concerning the League (characters or possessions), the only things I own are the plot of this story, and my few (very few) original characters. Enjoy!

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More Than Meets The Eye

Chapter 1: Drinking and Daggers

"Barkeep, bring us another round. Don't worry, gents, it's on me," Skinner said, waving a gloved hand at the other's objections. He knew his companions were beginning to reach their breaking points. Well, at least he thought they were. Even he wasn't so sure anymore, having approached his maximum himself, but looking at the flushed faces around him, he grinned and gave an inward chuckle, anticipating the fun he would have with his soon-to-be drunk companions. The League was sat around an eight-chair round table, close to the bar, but not close enough that just any lowlife could hear their conversation. Skinner and Tom had their backs to the bar; Mina sat with empty chairs on both sides, then Jekyll and Nemo, with another empty chair between them and Skinner.

"Come on, Skinner, lay off the drinks. I think I've already had enough to sink even the Nautilus." Tom scooted away from the table and leaned back in his chair, hands resting on his stomach, and head tilted backward.

"Nonsense, Tom." As the drinks came to the table, he grabbed one and held it up. "My motto is, if you can still say 'no', you're not nearly drunk enough. Now, come on you lot, bottoms up." And with a flourish with his open hand, he downed the contents of his glass in one swig.

"Honestly, Skinner, I believe you're trying to send us to an early grave." Mina took a glass, and took a sip.

"Now, Mina, we all know that out of any of us here, you'd be the last to go below the surface." Skinner tipped his head forward, glancing over his pince-nez glasses at the only lady of the group. Her cheeks were not nearly as red without the tinted glass, but nonetheless she wasn't quite as still as she normally was. He couldn't quite call it fidgeting, nor was she swaying, but she never quite stayed in the same position for more than a few moments. He gave another inward chuckle–so she wasn't immune to the drink. It would be quite an evening, if he could manage to remember it.

Mina took another sip and glanced over to her left, at the doctor and the captain. Jekyll had yet to touch his drink of this round, and the captain was sitting quite still, she couldn't quite see where he was looking, but it didn't look as if he had even noticed the drinks yet. Skinner also noticed the two's absence in the newest round and took it upon himself to involve them. Calmly reaching forward, he took one glass from the tray and placed it in front of Tom, and then he pushed the tray towards the other men. "Come on, Doctor, Nemo, you two can't miss out on the festivities. You too, Tom," he said, nudging him in the side.

"Hey, now, lay off." Tom sat up and leaned forward on the table. "Didn't I already tell you I'd had enough?" Nevertheless, he took the glass in front of him and took a large gulp. Skinner laughed and gave him a large slap on the shoulder.

"See? That's what I'm talking about. True dedication and trust in friends." He grinned once again, having learned by now that smiling was too disconcerting without visible teeth. "Jekyll, Nemo, you still haven't touched your drinks. Where's your spirit?"

Jekyll eyed the glasses in front of him, frowning a bit at the known side-effects for such consumption of alcohol, but sighed and reached forward, taking the glass on the right and sipping it dutifully. Nemo, on the other hand gazed in front of him, seemingly at nothing. Just as Skinner opened his mouth to speak again, he reached forward as well, and took his glass in hand, taking a drink.

Skinner leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head. "Well, now all we have to do is wait for you lot to finish your drinks, and then we get to the fun part." Taking this opportunity, he turned his head and looked around the place again. The bar was quite cozy, not too big, not too crowded, but not to small or quiet either; just the right amount of people that a miss-matched group such as themselves didn't stand out too much. That was hard to find these days, considering that, of the group, Skinner looked the strangest in his full black leather overcoat, gloves, pince-nez glasses, trilby, and completely white face, head, and neck. He'd decided to go to the extreme on covering up his uniqueness, just so any passerby wouldn't not see what he wasn't supposed to. Besides, he was with the group; surely his skills wouldn't be needed in getting drunk.

Skinner really didn't know what he thought of the group staying together as long as they had. It was hard, losing two people from the team like they had–one from treason, the other by murder–but somehow they'd stuck through it, traveling aboard the Nautilus to distant lands, sight-seeing mostly. Most of the group hadn't really traveled much, well, at least not before the mission that had brought them all together. God knows, they'd traveled enough and seen enough to satisfy any thrill-seeker on that mission. But none of them were really looking for the adventure, well aside from Tom maybe. He had to grin at that. Tom was the most reckless member of the team, though second in juvenility to Skinner himself. But he had definitely proven himself. He'd changed. They all had.

"Skinner? Good lord, has he passed out?"

Jekyll's words brought Skinner back to the present. He chuckled and turned back to the rest of the table. "Can't get rid of me that easily, I'm afraid." He leaned back forward and rubbed his gloved hands eagerly. "So, what'll it be tonight? Dark, embarrassing secrets? First loves? Current crushes?" At this he looked pointedly at Mina, who gave him a stern look right back.

"Don't hold your breath. It would take more than a little alcohol to stifle my inhibition that much." At this she gave a slight hiccup, and blushed, much to the amusement of Tom and Skinner who both started laughing raucously. Even Jekyll couldn't help but give a slight grin. Nemo, on the other hand, bowed his head forward and stayed silent.

Finally calming down enough to speak, Skinner lifted his empty glass towards Mina. "Besides, there's plenty more drink to go around, if that's what's called for."

"No, Mr. Skinner, I think I've had quite enough for one evening."

"Well, look who's gone all high and proper all of a sudden." He turned his head back to the bar and called out. "One more round over here." Turning back to the startled faces of his companions, he explained, "It's tradition for the one to tell to have a reward afterwards, if only to help them forget the telling." He grinned and waited while their empty glasses were exchanged for a tray of full ones. He took a glass and placed it in front of him, gesturing the others to do the same. Each did, though a bit reluctantly, not knowing if this was a sign of commitment to the impending task. All looked to Skinner, until finally Tom spoke up.

"Well? What're we supposed to do now?"

Skinner couldn't help but smile, showing an empty gap where his teeth should be. "We wait for the first to crack. Thank you for volunteering. Now, pick the subject–remembering, of course, that you will have to live with these people and myself, for a little while longer. …That is, if we don't decide to kill you tonight. So choose wisely, my friend." He leaned back, relishing every minute that look of astonishment and horror remained on the young man's face.

Tom remained with his mouth open for quite some time, at one point reaching for his drink, but having his hand batted away by Skinner ("That's for after!"). Finally he swallowed, and looked up from the table. "The biggest risk you've ever taken…"

Once again the table was silent. Tom's head dropped, not wanting to meet anyone's eye. Mina shifted in her chair impatiently. Jekyll's eyes traveled back and forth, from one side of the table to the other and he clicked his pocket-watch open and shut constantly. Even Nemo seemed uncomfortable, shifting back and forth.

"As it seems you've caught on to my way of volunteering, I may as well take the first crack at it." Skinner scooted his chair forward and placed his elbows on the table, placing one hand on top of the other as he did so. "First, I'll explain the rules. The story has to be elaborate and descriptive. No mumbling. Anything that comes to mind must be spoken, no matter how far off topic it may be." He grinned, "And believe me, I've heard some pretty impressive ramblings in the past. One bloke went on for a full hour mumbling about his mum's corset before passing out. But this is how we learn, and have a bit of fun in the process." He gave a wide smile at the others, who didn't look at all like they thought this would be fun.

He clapped Tom on the back. "I want to thank Sawyer, here, for providing a worthy topic. It won't have to be the bravest thing you've ever done, nor the stupidest, though it may be both. And there certainly ain't no law against telling a complete and utter lie, but that will forever reflect upon your conscience and your friendship with the rest of us." At this he raised a finger and wagged it at each of them. Quite comical, had it been under other circumstances. "One final thing: I don't want any 'Looking back on it now, I suppose'," he waved his arms, "Bah. That's not what we want to hear. This is all about what happened then and there. I couldn't care less about what your drunken soul thinks now." At this he laughed and straightened in his chair, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. When he finally seemed satisfied he once again leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table.

"Alrighty then, it all started in jolly old London. Looking back on it now, I suppose it–"

"Hey!" Tom gave Skinner a hefty push, nearly knocking him out of his chair.

Skinner righted himself, straightening his hat which he had grabbed during his near-fall. "Hey yourself! What was that for!"

"You just said not to say that."

"What are you going on about?"

"You told us not to go on about 'looking back on it now'."

"Did I? Well, since I made the rules, I'm allowed to break them. Now, as I was saying–"

Tom brought down his fist on the table. "Now hold on a minute, how do you figure that?"

"Well, obviously, I know how this all works, and you lot don't. That being the case, I had to explain it to you. That means you lot owe me a favor." Skinner tried to keep his face straight, but couldn't help but give a small grin. At this rate, the question would be forgotten and he'd have had his fun with the rest of the group.

"So, we owe you for getting us all drunk and making us answer ridiculous questions?" Mina raised an eyebrow.

"Well, naturally!" Skinner laughed. "I mean, can't you see all the fun we've been having?"

"I hardly think the endangerment of our dieing of old age is something I would call fun." Unfortunately Mina's hiccups chose this time to again make themselves known, causing the rest of the table to once again break out in laughter, with even Jekyll and Nemo taking part. It seemed the captain's drink had finally kicked in.

"Well, Mina, it seems as if your body doesn't exactly agree with your reasoning." Skinner leaned back, once again placing his hands behind his head. "Besides, I hardly think one such as yourself should be worrying about old age."

"Well, pardon me for caring about people other than myself, Mr. Skinner."

The thief placed a hand over his heart, making a show as if having been struck by an arrow. "Aw, Mina, that hurt!"

"Oh come off yourself, Skinner. Your antics are truly starting to grow tiresome."

Skinner leaned forward on the table. "Only starting, are they? I haven't been doing my job properly then."

"Ok, Skinner, I think that's enough," Tom said, placing a hand on Skinner's shoulder. He didn't want anything going further than it had to. Skinner was the closest to himself of the group, both in personality and traits, and he knew Skinner was pushing Mina's patience. It didn't help that she was drunk now either.

'I must be losing my touch,' Skinner thought, 'Seems as if everyone's not nearly as drunk as I am.' But he shrugged off Tom's hand and pressed forward anyway. "I'm fine Tom. Her bark's worse than her bite."

"Is it now?" Mina asked, once again raising one delicate eyebrow. "And what are you basing this off of?"

"The fact that most everyone runs away from you before you've even opened your mouth." Skinner shook his head slightly. He must be really drunk if even he couldn't understand what he was saying. He took a deep breath, trying to gather some coherent thought.

"And what about you, Skinner? It seems as if the only skill you have is talk." As soon as she said it, she regretted it. She was about to apologize when Skinner spoke up.

"Well, my dear, there's more to me than meets the eye."

At this, Mina couldn't help but chuckle and burst out, "Well, that seems obvious, seeing as nothing about you meets the eye." She was relieved that her comment seemed to have passed as nothing but the alcohol speaking. The league was not a team; there were very few ties between any of them, and very little of what could be called friendship. Respect was a better term for their relationships. But even that was an overstatement at times, especially when it came to Skinner, who was by far the most mischievous in the group. It was true that his antics were beginning to grate on her nerves, but at other times they did help with the monotony that sometimes came with life on the sea. Honestly, Mina didn't know exactly what to think of her invisible companion, and at the moment she was too drunk to bother figuring it out.

Skinner stuck out his bottom lip, which didn't get its full effect as the inner side was not visible, and put on a mock-pout. "Sure, sure, pick on the cripple."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." Mina fingered the glass in front of her, lifting it and taking a sip before she continued. "You are obviously not mute, nor are you blind or deaf. You show no signs of having a physical injury, and other than your refusal to grow up, I see no signs of mental injury, so therefore–"

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong!" Skinner interrupted, slapping his hand down on the table. "You see, each one of us has a disorder of one type or another. You, Mina, suffer from a supernatural disorder. The good doctor here suffers from a chemical disorder. As for Tom and Nemo, all I can figure is they must be suffering from psychological disorders for even thinking of sticking around with us freaks. And then there's me. Surely not being visible should count as a disorder, and as it was brought on by a physical experiment, it must be termed a physical disorder." The pub had grown a bit quieter at Skinner's outburst, some eyes were glancing hesitantly at the League, having caught a bit of what had been said, others hushed their companions in order to hear better. But as Skinner finished, the rest of the League remained silent, and eventually the onlookers returned to their previous affairs, shrugging off the outburst as a drunken fit.

For a while each of the League seemed fascinated by their drinks, still sitting untouched, except for Mina's, in front of them. None really wanted to expand on the subject of their own "disorders" as Skinner had called them, especially not in their present company. Matters concerning their unique pasts were better left for individual reflections rather than a group session, or so each believed. It was an unspoken understanding between them, one which even Tom and Skinner had yet to break with each other.

Finally Skinner broke the silence, sighing loudly, "Ah, well. I suppose we may as well top off for the evening." He reached forward and grabbed his glass, raising it in a toast. "Here's to good health and dreamless sleep." And with that, he downed his drink, the others following suit.

Just as Skinner returned the glass to the table, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning to his right, he saw a young woman, possibly 30 at the oldest, dressed in a barmaid's clothes, her curly hair done up in a messy bun. "Excuse me, sir, but are you–"

"Yeah, we're done with our drinks, thanks," Skinner said, pushing his empty glass towards the open spot beside him.

"Skinner!" Mina shot him a piercing glare before turning a kind smile on the girl. "What can we do for you?"

"Actually, to tell you the truth, you've all done so much for me already…" She spoke softly, her head down, hands clutched in front of her. "Especially you, Captain, and you, Doctor…" Tom, Mina, and Skinner all shot the two men confused looks, only to see confusion upon their faces as well. The girl, seeing this as well, immediately continued, "I'm sorry, I suppose I expected too much, after all you've been through, it's hardly fair to expect you to remember it all. My name's Johanna Arzt, my husband and I were captured and imprisoned by...Moriarty, was it? And then you, your League, came and rescued us. How can I ever repay you?"

The group as a whole still seemed taken aback at this girl's sudden appearance, but Skinner managed to recover first. "My dear, my sincerest apologies, I should have recognized that beautiful face the moment I set eyes on it." Reaching over, he took her hand and gave it a soft kiss.

Johanna blushed, "I'm sorry, but you are…?"

Tom could help but chuckle. "Oh, I'm sure you heard him on the ship. He was the one–oof!" Skinner slammed his elbow into the American's gut.

"That's enough of that, Tom." Turning back to the woman, he grinned and continued, "You'll have to excuse my friend here, he's had a bit too much to drink tonight."

"Yeah," Tom muttered. "I haven't had nearly as much you," – which earned him another elbow in the stomach.

"The name's Rodney Skinner, gentleman thief at your service. Well, ex-thief nowadays. I'm sure you've heard all about me though. Here, have a seat," he said, pulling out the chair beside him.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Skinner, but I'm afraid I don't recall hearing much about you at all," she said sweetly, taking the offered chair.

"I'm surprised. He was the one screaming his lungs out half the–" Instead of another elbow, Skinner's glare was enough to shut the agent up. Even behind the invisibility and the pince-nez glasses, Tom could feel everything in that gaze, and it was enough to send chills up his spine. He quickly turned away and traced his finger around the top of his empty glass silently.

Turning back to Johanna, Skinner explained in a soft tone, "What my associate is trying to say, is that I was injured in our battle with Moriarty. You see, I was the one who planted the bombs to bring that horrid factory down. Then I had a nasty run-in with one of M's flamethrowers. 'Course, even that couldn't stop yours truly."

"Oh, Mr. Skinner, you're so brave!" Johanna grabbed Skinner's hand protectively, batting her lashes and looking longingly into his eyes. Meanwhile the others were exchanging amused glances, accompanied by silent chuckling at times. Skinner, however, was more than occupied by his guest. He gently removed his hand from her grasp and put his arm around her shoulders, allowing her to lean against him.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I mean, it was all in the line of duty, honestly, so I can't really say I was–" He was cut off by a loud yawn from Johanna, who sat up instantly, a look of apology on her face as she covered her mouth. "My dear, do you have a place to stay for the night?"

She nodded shyly. "Yes. I have a room on the second floor, fourth door on the left."

"Then why don't I accompany you to your room, so as you don't fall asleep before you get there?" Skinner stood, taking Johanna's hand in his. Looking at his companions he assured, "I won't be but a few minutes. But in case I am a bit longer, don't wait up for me." Giving Tom a bit of a wink, he turned with Johanna and they both made their way to the stairs.

They made their way up the stairs and down the hall, Johanna leaning her head on Skinner's shoulder, until Skinner stopped at the fourth door on the left. "Well, here you are, love."

"Oh, silly me, I meant to say the fourth door on the right. I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tired, you see, and I–"

"Here now, it ain't no problem at all. Just a few more steps, no harm done." And with that he led her on one more door, stopping once again. "There we go, see? And we're none the worse for ware." Johanna smiled as she got her key out of her pocket and tripped the lock and opened the door. Her room was relatively large, nearly as large as Skinner's own room aboard the Nautilus, with ornately decorated walls and bedding and a blazing fire at the back of the room. Much more than he was expecting for a barmaid, not that he wasn't thankful.

"Would you like to come in?" Johanna smiled and made her way over to the bed. Skinner shook himself back to focusing on the girl in front of him and couldn't help but grin, shutting the door behind him as he followed her inside. When she reached the bed, she turned back to Skinner, taking a seat on the edge and batting her lashes once again. "Well, Mr. Skinner, how can I ever thank you for all you've done for me?"

"Well, I'm sure we can reach…some sort of agreement…" Skinner approached her, turning his head and removing his trilby, placing it on a table between two lavish armchairs. But as soon as he turned his head back to Johanna he felt a sharp pain in his chest, knocking the wind out of him, and was thrown backward into the left armchair. He landed with a loud screech as the chair skidded backward and an equally loud "oof" coming from himself. Looking up he saw Johanna standing in front of him, a short black dagger in her right hand. Her hair was no longer in a neat bun, but rather hung freely around her face and shoulders. But it was her eyes that had really changed the most; they were no longer the innocent orbs of temptation he had fallen for, now they blazed with some inner fury, similar in all but color to those Mina occasionally sported. In fact, she bore a striking resemblance to Mina in her vampire form. She was no longer the sweet, grateful barmaid, but a woman with a goal to accomplish. Skinner just hoped it didn't involve him making contact with that knife…

"Well, Mr. Skinner," Johanna said coldly, "I'm so glad we finally have the chance to meet. I've been searching for you for some time now, and I must say you don't disappoint in the least." At this she smirked and came slowly closer to the thief, twirling her dagger smugly. When she was within arm's reach, she calmly reached out and picked his glasses calmly off his face, tossing them to land next to his trilby. He flinched, visibly. These days he'd found it tiresome to apply the greasepaint to his eyelids–such a pain to take off, and it was a bit useful to see even when he blinked–so he'd found that he had compensated by showing more movement in the rest of his body. He wasn't sure exactly why it had happened, though he suspected a bit that it was his tendency to be somewhat of a ham most of the time, but he sure wasn't thankful for it now.

Johanna smiled at his flinch, then stopped twirling the blade and in a flash had slashed his right arm, just above the wrist. Skinner yelped in pain and went to clutch the wound with his other hand, but Johanna quickly pressed the knife against his throat and he instantly went still, his breathing fast and short. "I suggest you not flinch when there's nothing to flinch at. It's a slight peeve of mine, you see, one which I instantly correct by giving you something deserving of the reaction."

Skinner didn't dare move, not even to look for a way of escape, lest she sense that she did not have his full attention; a mistake that could easily be his last. His breathing had slowed again, and he could feel the slow trickle of blood flowing from his arm. Even though no signs of blood showed through the coat or on the chair fabric, just the thought of blood–his blood–made him slightly dizzy. No–that could very well be the alcohol finally catching up with him. 'Oh please, don't let me pass out,' he thought wearily. The last thing he wanted was for this to be the last thing he saw before he died. Then again, when you died, did you really remember anything? Oh, all this thinking was giving him a headache. He slowly raised his left hand to his head, massaging his temple before remembering where he was and what was against his throat.

The dagger moved almost too fast to see and the next thing he knew his arm was back on the armrest, palm down, the dagger stabbed clear through and pinning it down. The pain seemed to throb through the entire arm and it was all Skinner could do to keep his eyes away from the dagger, from the wet stain that was slowly forming on the armrest that he knew to be caused by his invisible blood. He felt sick and wanted to run, his heart racing and his breathing speeding up as well. He knew he had to calm down, but the hilt of the dagger kept being caught out of the corner of his eye, sending another wave of nausea and panic.

Meanwhile, Johanna seemed to be enjoying herself. She had pulled another dagger from who knows where, and had gone back to twirling it amusedly. "I wouldn't suggest moving much, Mr. Skinner, you look sick enough as it is." She calmly walked over and pulled the other armchair around to face Skinner, then she sat mirroring Skinner's own stiffness before chuckling and relaxing, crossing her legs and resuming twirling her dagger. "You should really be thanking me, you know. That dagger," she pointed to his left arm, "just happened to miss all major arteries and bones. If it hadn't, well, you'd be in much more pain and that stain below your arm would be much larger." Skinner glanced down at his arm but instantly cringed and looked back at his torturer, who wore a contemplative gaze.

"Seems a bit strange, a killer such as yourself, being so squeamish when it comes to a little blood. I mean, after all, you can't even see your own, but you regard others' blood with so little care… I'm afraid I don't understand you at all, Mr. Skinner."

"What in hell are you talking about?" Skinner managed to gasp out.

"Don't play coy with me, Mr. Skinner, you know exactly what you've done." Her eyes flashed dangerously and her blade seemed to move even faster, almost to the point where it would seem impossible to control; a point Skinner was not looking forward to.

"Y-you heard my friend, Saw-Sawyer." No, he wouldn't let himself turn into Jekyll just because he was in a bit of trouble. He forced his jaw to stop trembling and continued. "I was dieing from pain the entire way back. I wouldn't know me own mum, let alone some girl who–"

"Lost her husband?"

Skinner froze, his mouth still open, his eyes wide and staring. Johanna no longer had hatred in her eyes, her face was not hard-set, and she had stopped the dagger, blade pointed upward. Skinner was more afraid than ever. He'd once heard that hatred was not the opposite of love, for that still meant that the other person cared; but rather the opposite was complete indifference. Indifference emanated from her cold eyes, pierced him through more sufficiently than any dagger could have done, and left him frozen, barely breathing, as the woman calmly got to her feet and paced back and forth in front of him. The dagger moved back and forth in a loose grip, but as much as he wanted to keep an eye on it, all he followed was her face.

It was quiet for some time, the only sound came from the crackling of the fire and Johanna's footsteps. Finally Skinner couldn't stand it anymore. He didn't know if it was the pain in his arms or the alcohol in his system that had finally broke him, but all the same, he opened his mouth hesitantly, "But, you said that you and your husband were rescued by the League…"

Johanna stopped and turned to look at him, fixing him again with that cold stare that sent shivers up his spine. She sat down across from him again, not taking her eyes off him for a moment. It reminded Skinner of the way Mina sometimes got when the subject was a bit too personal and she wanted to end it quickly. "My husband was one of the scientists recruited by Moriarty. He was a chemist, one of the greatest, so naturally he was put to work the hardest. I could do nothing but watch him at the end of the day, wracking his brain to find the solution to what he was working on. Finally, one night he came back to me with a smile on his face. He'd finally solved it. He'd reproduced the demon draft, as they called it, and then the next night he told me about the vampire blood, and the invisibility process, how he'd solved both of them too. Then, the League came… the captain and the monster came down to our cells and let us out. My husband was very tired and weak and so moved slowly, and I stayed back with him. We were just about to the gates when–when the explosions came. The whole place shook and then the ceiling began to come down around us. I ran as fast as I could, trying to drag Elie with me, but we weren't fast enough. One of the captain's men came and grabbed me, another taking my husband, but seconds later they were both…"

One lone tear ran down her cheek, but her eyes still stared straight at Skinner, no emotion showing whatsoever. It was then he knew he wouldn't be getting out of there alive. His heart started racing again, and his breaths came faster and faster. Quickly, he reached his right hand over to yank the dagger out of his other arm, but he was too slow for the skilled woman. He yelled as his right arm was pinned like his left, the blood pool quickly growing on the armrest. It seemed she hadn't been as careful this time. He looked up at her, eyes narrowed and gritting his teeth. "What do you want with me? I was just doing my job."

"As was Elie, but that didn't stop you, did it?" She turned her back on him, walking over to a bedside table and opening a drawer.

"I didn't bloody do anything!" Skinner yelled.

"Well then," she closed the drawer and turned, revealing a hypodermic syringe clutched in her right hand, "the Lord will be quite merciful."

As she walked forward, Skinner caught a bit of noise coming from outside the door. It was faint, but he could just make out Tom's voice coming from down the hall. Of course, she'd made that 'fourth door' mistake intentionally. "Skinner? You in there?" Tom had stopped at the fourth door on the left, a good ten feet away from their own door. Johanna was still a good eight feet away from Skinner. He just hoped Tom was as fast on the draw drunk as he was sober.

"SAWYER! NEXT DOOR!" Skinner yelled at the top of his lungs. Johanna jumped back a bit at his sudden outburst, then her head turned toward the footsteps outside the door and her eyes widened. She ran at Skinner just as Tom kicked in the door to the room, pistol in hand. He fired two shots, missing her by inches each time, then, as she threw herself at Skinner, the next two shots connected.

She landed at his feet, breathing heavily, she managed to get up on her knees and looked Skinner in the eye, the hatred clear on her face once more, but now accompanied with a deadly determination that left Skinner speechless as she managed to raise herself up and whisper in his ear. "You will die, just as my Elie did." And with that she plunged the syringe into his right arm.

Skinner gasped and came to his senses, the contents of the needle burning as they mixed with his own blood. "Shoot her, you idiot! Shoot her!" Tom quickly fired another shot and Johanna dropped to the floor and didn't move again.

Tom just stood staring at the two for a while, before hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway. Nemo appeared in the doorway sword drawn, followed by Mina and Jekyll, who held a small vial in one hand. Nemo looked around then sheathed his sword, saying calmly, "We heard shots. What happened?"

Skinner gave another gasp as he tried to turn himself to the group and shifted against the daggers in his arms. "Well, if you lot would be so kind as to give me a hand, I would be more than willing to tell you." His arm had stopped burning by now, but the lack of sensation and fear made way for his nausea to return, and the addition to the needle to the list of things sticking into him wasn't making things much better.

Tom seemed to come out of his daze, finally noticing the daggers pinning Skinner to the chair and hurried over, Jekyll right behind. He grabbed the dagger in Skinner's left arm and yanked it out, causing a scream of pain to escape from the invisible man. "God! What are you trying to do? Kill me?"

"I'd say she was doing a good enough job of that." Tom said, nodding his head over his shoulder at the dead woman on the floor. Skinner looked down, then regretted it instantly as he felt his stomach contents begin to rise. He quickly grabbed the dagger out of his right arm, releasing him from the chair, and turned to lean over the back. Tom took a breath through his mouth and moved towards Mina and the captain who were standing just inside the door. "Well, he seems to be just fine, thanks to yours truly." He twirled his pistol and put it back in its holster.

"Based on these stains, I'd say otherwise, Tom." Jekyll was crouched next to the chair, one hand on the armrest, the other on Skinner's back. Skinner had just finished relieving himself of the excess alcohol of the evening, and was just breathing quietly. "I'm afraid he's lost a large amount of blood," Jekyll continued, standing and turning to face his listeners. "And in addition, he seems to have picked up a little something extra." He held up the syringe, a worried look on his face.

Mina walked over and took the syringe, looking upon the remaining contents with a frown. "It doesn't resemble any metals or poisons I'm familiar with, but of course I will begin tests as soon as we get back to the Nautilus."

"So sorry to ruin the evening for you lot." Skinner had turned and was sitting forward in the chair now, though he was rather slouched against the left side. He had an apologetic grin on his face, making Mina wonder if he ever took anything seriously. "I guess I shouldn't-a had those last couple-a drinks…" Then his head lolled forward and he began mumbling some other nonsense about drinking and ladies.

"He's gone into shock. Let's get him out of here." Jekyll moved to Skinner's right and brought his arm over his shoulders, while Tom ran back over and did the same with Skinner's left arm. Skinner gave a small yell as they both grabbed his stab-wounds and seemed to come back to the present.

"Hey now, wait! What about the girl?" He looked back over his shoulder weakly.

"It would be best we not get involved with a dead body," Nemo said. Skinner thought it was a bit cold, but then again, it was true, so he nodded, relaxing and letting his head fall forward. Jekyll and Tom both looked down in surprise, then realized the thief had finally passed out, and so hurried him out of the room, followed by Mina and Nemo, back to the Nautilus.

* * *

The inspiration for the drinking topic was out of a nifty little "Writer's Block". It's actually a book shaped like a cube and it has helpful hints – either advice from authors or one-word inspirations – which just give you a lift when you're stuck. I was really just looking for something fun, and so I had to flip through a couple times, but this one seemed to work. Well, at least, I hope it did.

Oh, and for any of you who are curious, I do NOT plan on a Mina/Skinner pairing. Actually I'm not planning on any slash at the moment. I might watch the movie a couple more times, but I really didn't see much of a pairing between anyone outside of the vast numbers of fanfics I've read. So, as of right now, don't plan on anything more than hints of pairings (which I'll leave you to pick out and enjoy) but nothing will be prominent or central to the story line. Johanna was hard enough to work on. I swear, I couldn't write for hours after I had her batting her lashes – it just made me crack up so many times. So trust me, I won't go having any completely out-of-character mushy scenes in this fic.

I apologize for Jekyll's and Nemo's minor parts in this chapter. I promise Jekyll's role will pick up in future chapters and I will try my best to include Nemo in-character…He's one of the hardest for me, so if any of you have suggestions or pointers, please give a detailed review or drop me an e-mail, it will be greatly appreciated! Thanks!

Well, hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I really don't know if all the chapters will be this long…. I didn't honestly count on the drinking scene to be this long, though I'm glad it is. Now, I need you guys to please please please review. I'm begging you. I'll…I don't know…I'll give you a biscuit!


	2. Authoress's Note

Authoress's Note: Hey, sorry for getting your hopes up. This is just a filler chapter so I can go back and make corrections to the first chapter without having to delete the entire story and re-post it. Mostly it's just a few minor corrections, such as trying to weed out unnecessary formal nouns (such as saying Skinner over and over again). Also, I noticed a few parts of dialogue from Tom that seemed too formal for a drunk American, so I'm editing that.

Thank you to those who have reviewed so far. It really means a lot and I hope it will help spur me along to continuing to write. That's right; I haven't actually started writing the second chapter yet. I've got a note-sheet with some ideas of what I want to happen and I've had the whole thing going through my head for about a month now. Unfortunately, at the moment college is starting to catch up with me. As the year is winding down I'm being forced to actually do homework every night instead of messing around or writing my story. What has the world come to?

Interestingly enough, even though I originally said that the fic would be based solely on the movie and not on any of the characters' respective novels I'm currently reading Stoker's Dracula for my literature class. Mina's a bit different at the moment… But, then again, she's still normal and doesn't know of vampires as of yet. Consequently I _might_ unconsciously work in something from Dracula, but I swear it won't be assumed that any of you have read the book, and so anything I do add will be explained, or I might include a footnote about where I got my info. Then again, if I contradict anything from Dracula, keep in mind that I started this fic and had the idea in mind for it before I read the book. I suppose I should just end this rambling now and get back to revising and possibly start on the next chapter… Well, until next time!

Oh, one last thing, PLEASE I'm looking for some advice for Nemo. If you have any insights on how an interaction between him and Skinner would go, it'd be very helpful. If his portrayal in the first chapter is any indication, I honestly have no idea how "chummy" he would get around the league, and Skinner in particular. Thanks again!


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